


Word Is, There's A New Boy In Town

by MomentsOverMyHead



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Breakfast Show, Friends to Lovers, Gryles, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Tour Bus, fuck yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentsOverMyHead/pseuds/MomentsOverMyHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So,” Nick said brightly, “What are you up to?”</p><p>“Are you fingering yourself Harry?” Nick spluttered teasingly.</p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.” Nick swore from his end, “You actually are fucking wanking whilst you’re on the phone to me…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Word Is, There's A New Boy In Town

**Author's Note:**

> So there is so time-scheme in this, so when I say there is two weeks until a break i am totally lying.  
> I own no characters mentioned in this, it's complete fiction!
> 
> Title kind of taken from Kings Of Leon.... kind of
> 
> Also follow me on tumblr!! - atgrimmers.tumblr.com

Touring may or may not be Harry’s favourite part of being in One Direction. It was great, he got to perform and sing in front of thousands of people every night; try new food and visit new and beautiful places all over the world; muck around the tour bus, hotels and arenas and have a great time – and all of this was done with his four closest friends. 

So really, thinking about it, touring was pretty fucking fantastic.

It was pretty fantastic, apart from the lack of privacy in the tour bus for a good ol’ fashioned wank – which Harry was long overdue…

Harry, despite the rumours, really didn’t get around as much as he was rumoured to. He supposed; as he sat quietly on the sofa in the tour bus, watching the other four play Fifa two-on-two; that he could quite easily use his dimples and reckless charm to bundle any woman he wanted into bed, but he just didn’t roll like that. He was brought up to be a gentleman, and he liked to stick to those values.

Of course that was the reason he wasn’t sweaty beneath the sheets in his own hotel room with some nameless blonde writhing beneath him. Of course that was the reason, and it didn’t have anything to do with the man who was currently napping (in his own flat in London) before dinner due to his early mornings to rise the nations with his humour and cock-stirring accent. 

Of course it had nothing to do with him, because Harry was totally and completely unaffected by the way the radio would crackle his voice with static and make it sound more rugged and rough; and the way his quiff would sometimes curl over his headphones; and the way his long, long fingers would fiddle with the dials; and Harry really didn’t get effected by his eyes or tattoos, and he certainly didn’t gush to Louis late at night about how Nick was a living, breathing, Kodak moment; because he was perfect.

And you know what? Fuck it. Harry knew full well that he could be fucking away the semi-hardness that had seemed to follow him around since the tour started with any random girl he chose, but he would rather sit entangled with his friends on the sofa and think wistfully of Nick, because Nick was perfect.

“You wanna go, mate?” Liam asked, dragging Harry out of his Nick-induced reverie.

“Oh uh,” Harry coughed as he sat up slightly straighter, trying to look like he hadn’t just been dreaming of his best mate, and to hide the really quite offending semi he had going on, “Nah I’m alright guys, in fact I may head off to my bunk – I’m knackered.” He wasn’t knackered, he was hard and wanted relief – but they didn’t have to know that, “See you later, lads.”

The rest of the band grunted their farewells, but their eyes were already locked onto the screen as Niall started up the next game; Harry sighed in relief because he had been beginning to panic when he realised that a casual hand hanging in front of his crotch, as he escaped into the bunks, would have been painfully obvious and probably not enough cover. 

As it stood though, no-one’s attention was on him and he could escape into between his sheets without grief.

Once he was safely in the narrow corridor lined with six bunks (even though only five were needed – Harry could never see the point) Harry pulled the slide-away door closed and thumped his head against the thin door, he could feel his dick throbbing. Reaching down, he palmed himself a little through his trousers.

Harry stumbled towards his own bunk and his hand had opened his trousers and crept beneath his boxers, he bit his lip, hard, to keep from moaning, nobody was in there, but he still couldn’t risk his band mates hearing it. He shoved his clothes down with his unoccupied hand, so he had more room to stroke himself. 

He wrapped his fist tightly around his dick and stroked quickly. Harry let out a strangled gasp, his confident hand palming himself and getting himself hard, swollen, and wet at the tip. His tight grip soon began to drag on his cock, and the dry friction turned from unbearably addicting to slightly uncomfortable, so Harry took the little bulb of pre-cum at his tip and use it to slick himself up.

"Oh...God," Harry moaned, pushing against his own hand before he took his palm away and licked it quickly, then took a firm grip again, moving faster with the extra-lubrication.

“Fuuuck…” Harry groaned, pressing his head back into his pillow and biting his lip until he had a bitter taste of metallic on his tongue, desperate to muffle the sounds but feeling himself brimming with pleasure.

The room filled with the lewd sound of skin and friction and cock slick with fluids. Harry knew he had lube somewhere but he wasn’t willing to break his rhythm, it felt to fucking good. Harry only paused briefly to tug down the bloody trackies he was wearing, so that they weren't restricting his movement. 

Harry hadn’t planned on this whilst he was sitting on the sofa, he had planned a quick wank and that to be it, but he found himself sucking on two of his fingers and then reaching down between his milky white thighs. 

Harry pressed his wet fingers to his own hole, pushing in slowly, letting go of his cock to grab a handful of bedsheet. He leaned back and started moving his finger, before he grabbed his cock again and started stroking. 

Suddenly, and Harry felt fucking sick and you could forgive him for this, his phone started ringing from the pocket of his trackies which were kicked to the bottom of his bunk. Harry would have ignored it completely, but he recognized the song as ‘True Friend’ by Hannah Montana, the bloody fucking song Nick had set as his personalized ringtone on Harry’s phone two weeks ago.

“Bloody fucking shitting hell fuck wank douche bastard.” Harry swore pulled his fingers out of his arse, wiped them clean with tissues and answered the phone, not letting go of his cock.

“Mhm.” He breathed in answer down the phone, determined to make the call short so that he could cum.

“Are you awake Harry?” Nick whispered.

Harry’s breath shuddered as he exhaled shakily, hand tightening again on his cock but staying unmoving, “Well I answered the phone didn’t I?”

Nick laughed, oblivious of Harry’s very hard predicament, “Yeah, you did,” Nick chuckled again, “It’s late and I have had like, two hours sleep in 60 hours, forgive me.”

Harry snuffled a faint laugh, but shifted his hand slightly on his cock, unable to wait to finish the call with Nick before dragging his hand over his cock again.

“So,” Nick said brightly, “What are you up to?”

Harry actually laughed at this, how ironic, glancing down at his throbbing cock briefly, “Nothing much.”

Nick sighed, “Sounds boring, I thought you popstars are supposed to have heaps of fun and spend your nights crushing teenage girl’s dreams by dragging hopelessly drunk women back to the hotel, where’s all the fun popstar?”

Harry’s breath hitched as his hand dragged his foreskin back slightly, he scoffed to try and hide it but he had a horrible feeling it was too obvious, “Dunno mate.” Harry answered stiffly, “Anyway, what have you been up to? Tell me all.” Harry said, hoping that would prompt Nick into a long speech, giving him long enough to bring himself off without having to talk.

He imagined Nick’s body. Every tattoo and the way his long fingers stretched so teasingly as he sipped take away coffee or fiddled with the dials in the studio. 

He wanted to know how Nick’s cock felt pressed hard against his stomach as they rocked together, and how it would feel taking him into his mouth. He wanted to know but he knew he never would because they were just friends.

Harry closed his eyes and pumped his now painfully hard cock and groaned in response at the slight friction. With shaky hands, Harry rested the phone on his shoulder so he could still hear, and sucked his two fingers back into his mouth and coated them with saliva, before dropping his hand between his thighs and pressed inside himself again.

“Fuck…” Harry groaned out before he could bite it back.

“Are you fingering yourself Harry?” Nick spluttered teasingly, still innocently unaware.

“N-no.” Harry exhaled, breath hitching obviously.

His fingernail scratched lightly at the his blood-red tip and he groaned loudly, despite himself.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.” Nick swore from his end, “You actually are fucking wanking whilst you’re on the phone to me…”

“Don’t hate me, p-please, fuuck…” Harry trailed off with a moan as his finger pressed against his prostate.

“Did you know that sometimes I lock myself in the radio one bathroom and I touch myself.” Nick said suddenly.

Harry swore and his hips bucked.

“I only do it when I’m desperate and people are teasing me about you, and when I finish the breakfast show and I have a break before a meeting, that’s what I use the time for.”

“Fucking hell Nick, don’t lie to me because I’m about to fucking cum and this could be very embarrassing for me if you are bullshitting.”

“I’m not bullshitting.”

Harry groaned and turns his face into the pillow. “Tell me more then.” He rasped, starting to stroke himself again. 

“They always tease me about you, and all of the women you are pictured with, and I think they know I like you and that’s why they do it, then I start thinking about you and I get hard under the sound desk and I get so desperate I have to fuck myself in my own work toilets.”

“Y-you could c-call me,” Harry gasped, fucking into his own fist, “W-we could, I could – fuck – I could talk to you.”

“Didn’t know you liked me.” Nick went quiet, but only to hear the harsh hitch of Harry’s breath as Harry fingered himself in the small bunk of his tour bus, whilst Nick was all alone in his house with a hand now on his cock.

“I like you.”

“Good,” says Nick, slowing his hand, focusing on the sound of Harry breathing down the phone. “because I am now touching myself too.”

“Right,” Harry said, “Fuck.”

Harry couldn’t stroke himself fast enough; he wanted Nick there, under him. 

“If I’d known you fucked yourself thinking about me, I would have left Fincham in the studio – lost without me – and driven to wherever the fuck you are and fucked you on the fucking sofa you share with your bandmates.”

Then Harry cried out down the phone and Grimmy realized that that was enough. Just the thought of Nick dropping everything to fuck Harry, was enough to make the popstar cum.

“Did you cum for me?” Nick groaned, stroking himself faster. “Did you come on your fingers for me?”

Harry whispered out a yes, wiped out from his orgasm as he pulled his fingers out of himself, wiped at the cum that streaked his abs and butterfly tattoo with a tissue, and gripped the phone properly in a tired hand.

“Can I hear you when you cum?” Harry asked hopefully, sounding sinfully young.

Nick squeezed his dick and came, stroking himself through the aftershocks. 

“Well.” Harry snorted tiredly, bringing his duvet up his chest to burrow down, “That was eventful.”

Nick smirked, “When’d your tour over then, popstar?”

Harry felt his dick twitch.

“There’s a break in two weeks.”

“Get your dick over to mine in two weeks then.” Nick yawned, smiling fondly at Harry’s happy snuffle, “I’ve got new movies; snuggly blankets; new hot chocolate and a whole load of lube.”

“We can cuddle!?” Harry cooed happily.”

“Definitely.” Nick replied, smiling at the thought.

“And fuck?”

“No question about it.”


End file.
